Harry Potter and the Secret Cabinet
by islington
Summary: Harry & Co are happily living in Godric's Hollow when a Fair comes to the village, strange things start happening and Harry gets embroiled with a nefarious doctor and his somnambulistic-Severus-sideshow exhibit (that's a bit of a tongue twister, actually)
1. The Fair

TITLE Harry Potter and the Secret Cabinet  
  
AUTHOR islington road  
  
RATING R for the hell of it, any sex is several thousands words off in the distance  
  
PAIRING HP/SS  
  
WARNINGS AU, eventual slash, underage!Harry, chanslash-ish, issues of consent  
  
SUMMARY Harry & Co are happily living in Godric's Hollow when a Fair comes to the village, strange things start happening and Harry gets embroiled with a nefarious doctor and his somnambulistic-Severus-sideshow exhibit (that's a bit of a tongue twister, actually)  
  
NOTES Inspired by the German film 'The Cabinet of Dr Caligari' directed by Robert Wiene in 1920. Will probably pick up a few elements from Mary Shelley's Frankenstein once the ball gets rolling, too. What can I say? Severus as a monster in everyone's eyes but Harry's is a recurring theme of this fandom - I'm just adding the schlock and heavy eye make-up - Oh, wait...  
  
DISCLAIMER The monkey made me do it! These names and characters are not mine. The story was inspired by things that are not mine. I don't even know if the monkey's mine but he followed me home...  
  
HARRY POTTER AND THE SECRET CABINET  
  
The Fair was coming to Godric's Hollow.  
  
Colourful paper posters adorned every post and every wall. They proclaimed fantastic sights and magical tricks, exotic beasts and strange monsters. And they were all coming to Godric's Hollow. Needless to say, everyone was quite excited.  
  
None more so than Harry's friend, Ron. 'Oh my god! Oh my god Harry! Look at this! Have you seen it? Look at it!' Ron shoved a dogeared poster into Harry's face. 'Look Harry, it says 'World's Most Beautiful Woman'. See? Right there! 'World's Most Beautiful Woman' and she's coming here! I think I'm in love...' Ron mock-swooned into Harry's arms. Well, sort of.  
  
'Get off.' Harry nudged his friend with an elbow.  
  
'You can't tell me you're not excited, mate.'  
  
'Of course I'm excited, Ron. But I want to see the magic tricks! I've never seen real magic before. And I promised Hagrid I'd go and see the strange animals with him. I don't think I'll have a chance to see this lovely lady of yours.' Ron was outraged.  
  
'How can you not make time for beauty? She's the most beautiful woman in the whole entire world, Harry! You might never get this kind of a chance again.'  
  
'You do realise, Ron, that's it's going to be some old hag in a dress wearing a wig made from horsehair, don't you,' Harry teased.  
  
'Blasphemy! It says 'World's Most Beautiful Woman' on the poster,' which he waved in Harry's face again for emphasis, 'and the world's most beautiful woman it must be!'  
  
'Whatever you say, Ron.' Further banter was suspended as the boys had arrived at Harry's front gate. 'You want to come in?'  
  
'Nah. Promised Mum I'd keep an eye Ginny tonight. That way I get the whole weekend little-sister-free. See you tomorrow at the Fair?'  
  
'Sure. I'm meeting up with Hagrid in the morning, he said something about his cousin or something tagging along. And Sirius said he wanted to check it out, too.' Ron chuckled.  
  
'Well, if you're going to be anywhere near Hagrid tomorrow I'll find you easily enough. Cor, but he must seven-foot tall that bloke. I'll definitely be able to spot him in the crowd. See you tomorrow, then,' said Ron, waving as he headed off home.  
  
'Yeah, see you Ron,' and Harry waved as well and turned to go through the gate.  
  
--oOo--  
  
Harry didn't remember much about his parents. He'd lived with his godfather, Sirius, since the time he was a toddler. He didn't mind too much, after all, in Godric's Hollow there were plenty of people to tell him stories about his parents. Lily and James had lived there all their lives, and the tales that were told about them painted them in a rosy, romantic light. As far as Harry was concerned, his parents had been perfect.  
  
Sirius, in Harry's estimation, was not perfect. Sirius was tall, had really long hair, scruffy stubble, a fondness for overcoats, dirty jokes, single malt whiskey and was the proud owner of the only combustion-engine-powered motorised-cycle machine. Which he had called The Black Beast. Sirius was better than perfect. He was cool. Harry thought it was bloody brilliant. He wanted to be just like his godfather when he was older. Just maybe, you know, even cooler. Maybe with longer hair or a bigger motor-thingy.  
  
Sirius always laughed when told him it was his life's ambition to be just like his godfather (he never mentioned the 'even cooler' bit, not to Sirius anyway). Harry's godfather always ruffled his hair and said 'Of course you're going to be as cool as me, Harry. Just as soon as you finish school and head off to university, you can be as cool as you want'.  
  
School was, of course, the sticking point. Harry didn't see why he had to finish his schooling (let alone start even more at university!) when Sirius had left school well in advance of the final years. If it was good enough for Sirius wasn't it good enough for Harry? Apparently not. Sirius was determined to make up for his less than brilliant life by making sure Harry did all the right things - like finishing school. Sigh.  
  
School was, in fact, where Harry and Ron had just come from. Both boys were in their second-to-final year and were hoping to avoid the dreaded actual- final year by doing well enough that they were accepted as apprentices, as Ron was hoping for, or accepted to a university, like Sirius was telling Harry to hope for. Sigh.  
  
What it meant right now, was that Harry had to spend the last few hours of a perfectly good Friday afternoon on perfectly dull homework in order to be able to skive off all weekend at the long anticipated Fair. If he instead skived off on his homework he'd end up being guilt-tripped by Sirius and unable to enjoy the long anticipated Fair. Sigh. God but life sucked sometimes.  
  
Harry plodded upstairs to his room with only the promise of the weekend to sustain him.  
  
--oOo--  
  
Magic tricks! Harry told himself two and one-quarter hours later when boredom had rendered his mind as numb as his backside from all the sitting still in one position he'd been doing. Unless you counted turning pages as physical activity - which Harry didn't. Think of the magic tricks and three- headed dogs you're going to see if you get this all finished! Positive thinking, Harry old boy! Positive thinking!  
  
Harry shook his head. Maybe he'd been spending too much time with Ron's older brothers. Oh well.  
  
It was one tired Harry Potter than dragged his homeworked-out body to bed that night. And it was one tired Harry Potter that dreamed strange dreams of hidden faces and dark shadows. And it was one tired Harry Potter who mumbled sleepily to no one in particular 'Of course I think Fluffy is a lovely name, Hagrid'...  
  
So maybe not all the dreams were of hidden faces and dark shadows, but they were all strange dreams.  
  
And the boy slept.  
  
To be continued... 


	2. The Tent

****

ADDITIONAL NOTES Yes, it's anachronistic. Yes, there's no Severus yet. Yes, 'The Cabinet of Dr Caligari' was actually made in 1919 and not 1920 like I said in the previous notes. And for those who've never heard of that film - go and investigate German Expressionism and the Weimar Republic. Go on. The monkey dares you. Oh, and don't ask about the lambs. It just seemed like a good idea at the time. Blame the monkey. I do.

****

Harry Potter and the Secret Cabinet, chapter 2

And the boy woke up...

Fair Day! Harry told himself excitedly as he scrambled out of bed and his pyjamas and into something that didn't have frolicking blue embroidered lambs as a motif. 'Honestly, sometimes I don't think Sirius realises how old I am,' Harry muttered with a glare-of-death and the much abused sleepwear. 'To this day I do not know what he was thinking. Lambs of all things...'

Not that it mattered. Today was the day of the long anticipated Fair and Harry had better things to do than ruminate over his PJs.

Although, he still couldn't wait for the day when he outgrew the blasted things...

But enough of that - it was time now for breakfast and then to sketch out a plan of attack with Sirius before meeting up with Hagrid and then Ron and it would be a day of magic tricks and fantabulous creatures and even a visit to Ron's beautiful lady if Harry felt like a good laugh and...

On it went. Harry was so full of plans for the day that -

'I think you're going to burst,' said Sirius when Harry appeared downstairs, 'you're that full of energy.' Harry tried to smirk around the juice he was damn near inhaling and narrowly avoided death-by-choking. However, he didn't quite escape embarrassment-by-snorting-juice-out-one's-nose. Sirius just shook his head, in that rueful way adults do, and tut tut-ed

Putting on a slightly more serious face Sirius addressed Harry, 'I won't be able go with you this morning, Harry. Albus came round last night after you'd gone to bed, apparently there's been a spot of trouble in Hogsmeade and I promised the old man I'd hear all the details today. There's a chance I'll have to go to Hogsmeade, too, if things can't be sorted out from here.' Harry nodded. He understood that his godfather had special skills for putting pieces together and asking the right sort of questions when it came to mysterious matters. And that there were times when his godfather was needed elsewhere even if Harry wanted him to be near.

'Is everything okay?'

Sirius sighed. 'It seems the town clerk has gone missing and the mayor's office is in an uproar and so of course the mayor had to trouble Albus with it and he's promised to look into it... But Albus is getting on a bit, the last thing he needs is anymore grey hairs...' Sirius trailed off. He glanced at his godson, 'Just don't be back too late today, hmm? I'll try and meet up with you if I can.'

'I'll be with Hagrid and he's easy to spot. And I promise I won't be out too late' said Harry dutifully. Sirius leaned over the table and mussed Harry's hair. 'OK, off you go. And don't have too much fun!' he called out.

'I won't!' Harry called back as he rushed out of the kitchen and headed off towards the Fair. 

--oOo--

Godric's Hollow, like most villages of its type, was mostly built around the town common, and as such, had an almost labyrinthine web of narrow, twisting alleyways running off in all directions. Legend had it that all the twisting alleys were originally trampled into being by the sheep and goats that were herded to graze at the common. While it might be an apocryphal tale, Harry was inclined to believe it if only because he knew how twisty and turny the alleyways were and how amazingly stupid sheep are. Although, he wasn't sure about goats... Maybe they'd trampled the slightly more direct paths...

Harry let his mind wander as he weaved in and out between the wood and stone buildings, veering around fellow pedestrians and cutting corners. He was so anxious and everyone else was so slow! He'd never make it to the Fair in time to see everything, he was sure of it! Hagrid probably wouldn't even be waiting for him anymore and then Ron would never find him! And then Sirius wouldn't be able to meet up with him and...! Oh look, there's Hagrid now. And Harry slowed his hurried pace.

'Hullo Harry!' the genial giant of a man glimpsed his friend and waved to him. Harry dodged the few remaining people in his way and bounced beside Hagrid.

'All ready then?' Harry asked. With a nod the duo set off, arms waving and hands gesticulating as they described the wonders they planned on witnessing. 

--oOo--

One ice cream, two sticks of fairyfloss and a half a pound of sugared peanuts later, Harry had met up with Ron and Hagrid's cousin Neville, but there had been no sign of Sirius. This hadn't prevented Harry from sitting through the fire-breathing and sword-swallowing act three times and the levitating show twice. Hagrid had dragged them around every single sideshow exhibit that promised more than two legged displays, and to Harry's amazement they hadn't all been animals. Ron had been determined to see his lady-love but the crowd had been overflowing from that tent and the boys hadn't been able to get even the tiniest glimpse.

Harry was in the midst of apologising for making them all sit through 'The Magical World of Magical Me - with Gilderoy Lockhart' which had only been some pompous git in pale pink robes and nothing about magic tricks at all (except Lockhart's insistance that his beauty routine might appear to some to be magical). 

'Not your fault, Harry. No one could've known from the sign what that drip was about,' Ron maintained.

'Ron's right, Harry. Besides, that sword-swallower bloke was ruddy well fascinating. We could always stop by there again if y'wanted to,' consoled Hagrid.

Although he was tempted, Harry didn't think it was fair to make the others sit through that show for a fourth time, so he turned to Hagrid's quiet cousin instead. 'Anything you'd like to see, Neville?'

Neville blushed at the attention. 'Well, my gran said she once saw a s-s-so-somnambu-bulist,' he stumled over the unfamiliar word, 'at a fair when she was a girl. She said it was frightfully fun. He could answer questions and everything.'

'A somono-whatsit?' asked Ron.

'A somnambulist is a sleepwalker. Y'know, a fellow that can move around and stuff without ever waking up.' supplied Hagrid. Ron made a face.

'Eugh, sounds creepy. But how do you know they're really asleep and not pretending?' the red-head asked. Harry looked puzzle, too. Poor Neville simply blushed even more at being the centre of attention.

'I don't know,' he answered quietly. 'I suppose you can tell by looking at them?'

'Well,' said Harry, 'let's find out. I'm sure there's got to be one at this Fair. It seems as if it's had everything else so far...' And so they set off.

It didn't take the intrepid Fair explorers long to find a couple of posters advertising 'Dr Pettigrew's Sensational Somnambulist!' and that his tent was in the southwest corner.

The stained canvas moved slightly in the breeze and the paper banner crackled slightly. It was quieter in this corner than in other parts of the Fair and Ron thought it was cool that something so mysterious was so... well, mysterious.

All four of them were hesitating around the tent's entrance flap, unsure whether the quietness was something they should interrupt when a scratchy voice spoke.

'Come inside, see the somnambulist. See him move! Hear him speak! He will answer any question you might have. Any question at all! Come inside...'

With a glance at his friends, Harry shrugged, pushed aside the canvas flap and went inside the murky tent of the somnambulist. Hagrid, Ron and Neville followed Harry's lead and went inside the tent, all of them curious, and just the littlest bit apprehensive.

The tent swished closed behind them.

The paper crackled in the breeze.

To be continued...


	3. The Doctor

****

ADDITIONAL NOTES what the hell, may as well include all famous Victoriana freakishness while I'm at it - this is now reminiscent of _The Elephant Man_, too, now that I think about.

****

Harry Potter and the Secret Cabinet, chapter 3

Harry heard the swish of the tent close behind him and felt goose-bumps pimple his neck. This place just felt... creepy.

'It smells like something _died_ in here,' muttered Ron. Harry was inclined to agree.

'Come closer,' wheezed the voice. The sudden malodorous gust past Harry's nose seemed to indicate that the decomposing smell came from the breath of the mysterious voice. Harry's eyes watered. A quick glimpse at the others suggested they had the same problem.

There was a slight creaking and the flare of an oil lamp, a shadowy hunched figure became illuminated in the lamp's light. It was twisting the knob that controlled the wick. Another creak and the lamp flame grew taller and brighter. The mysterious figure began to resemble more a person and less a sack of forgotten potatoes.

'Welcome,' the person spoke, 'I am Doctor Pettigrew and in this cabinet,' here he gestured to a still dark corner of the tent, 'is my life's work.'

Slowly Harry's eyes were able to make out the features of the shadowy man - from his wild, frizzled grey hair, pointed nose and tiny eyes to his heavy, jowly cheeks. Ron would've said 'eugh', but Ron seemed incapable of speech. Maybe it was the smell. Harry got a noseful with every word.

No response from the nervous audience of four seemed necessary, the doctor was content to recite his showmanship spiel. Pettigrew took two steps backwards and grandly swept his arm, indicating his guests should sit on the low wooden bench.

'All my life I have been fascinated with freaks of nature and marvels of science. I dedicated my life to their study, searching for a way to understand and explain such misfits. The most amazing scientific wonder I came across in my studies and research was the famed _perambulator et somnulator_ - to give it the proper scientific name. You may know of them in the common tongue as 'sleepwalkers'. 

Pettigrew leant forward and spread his arms wide, causing his raggedy cape to swish impressively. 'Why, you may ask, why is something like a person who walks in his sleep such a scientific marvel? I see in your eyes you desire the answer to such a question, do you not, young gentlemen?' Pettigrew seemed to be looking directly at Ron. 'Very well,' the doctor began pacing in front of the bench, striding with his short legs, five paces, turn around, repeat.

'An ordinary man does more than require sleep - he _desires_ it, much like an addiction to intoxicating liquors or opiates. Should you deny a man his addiction he will become irritable, irrational, prone to outbursts, his concentration will wander until he can concentrate on nothing but that which he desires! His physical control will degrade until his movements are but mere spasms. Thus, deny a man his addiction and he will descend into _madness_!'

The doctor stopped abruptly to glare at his audience. 

'This,' he pointed accusingly at Hagrid, 'is what happens to man if you do not let him sleep.'

He resumed his pacing.

'When we want to break a man's addiction we in the medical and scientific worlds do not simply _deny_ the man his addiction, oh no, we must break him of the habit - often providing a substitute for the addiction. But sleep has no substitute. All the scientific world knows about sleep is that man cannot live without it. There are no case studies or examples of people who have _never_ slept to put such scientific questions to. But,' Pettigrew stopped in front of Harry and bowed his head down, 'there are, however rarely,' he paused again and his foul breath hit Harry head on, 'people who,' he leant a little bit closer, 'have never woken up at all...'

Harry froze. He couldn't breathe or even _twitch_ with the doctor's gaze focused on him. But Pettigrew spun away in the interest of theatrical dramatics before Harry had even processed what the doctor had been talking about.

Pettigrew resumed his pacing once more, cape swishing from side-to-side.

'It was a stroke of the most fortuitous fortune that I happened to come across this specimen. If it was not for my hard work and continual study I would not have recognised him for what he was as nobody had recognised him previously. From time to time the scientific world stumbles across some poor unfortunate soul who has suffered an accident and _appears_ to be asleep when really their brain has merely ceased to function. But that is not the case with my specimen. Similarly, there are some who are _born_ with their brain not functioning and again this is not the case with my specimen.

'Gentlemen, what you will see today is truly the most bizarre freak of nature you will ever see in your lives. All I ask is for a small donation to fund my further research into such scientific wonders.' 

Harry was shocked to see a tin appear, as if out of nowhere, in Dr Pettgrew's hand. One by one he rattled it underneath their noses until there was a _clink_ of a satisfyingly heavy coin. For a moment Harry had forgotten that this was a sideshow, that it was a part of the long anticipated Fair. He'd even forgotten that there was a Fair. Ron and Neville seemed to be just as shaken as he was himself, but Hagrid had his head down, searching for coins in his purse, and Harry couldn't make out his expression. Harry didn't even know how much he'd put in the tin, but the doctor appeared satisfied.

'Thank you, gentlemen. In the face of such generosity I feel compelled to continue.'

The doctor moved towards the dark corner and lit another oil lamp and a tall, narrow, wooden cabinet was distinguishable in the flickering, yellow light.

'_This_ is the sum of all my work and all my study!' he proclaimed with a flourish of one arm towards the cabinet.

'_This _is the most rare, the most sought scientific specimen!' Another flourish.

'_This_, gentlemen, is a living man. A man who breathes. A man who moves. A man who talks. A man _who has never been awake in all his life!_' A final flourish and then -

'I give you the somnambulist! I give you Sevá rè !' And Pettigrew flung open the doors of the cabinet amid gasps from Ron and Hagrid, a squeak from Neville and stunned silence from Harry.

After such hyperbole, Harry wasn't quite sure what he was expecting. A puppet? A man in make-up? An empty cabinet? But he wasn't expecting what he saw, which was a pale face that shone like a moon from between clouds.

It was disconcerting, such a pale face above a body cloaked in black fabric and framed by dark hair and marred by deep shadows around the eyes, cheeks and under the nose. Harry thought the face looked bloodless. Not bloodless as if all the blood had been drained away, but bloodless as if there had never been any blood there. Ever. It was such a startling paleness, even by lamplight.

The doctor was delighted by the reaction of the audience. He grinned with his crooked teeth and geared himself up for the second part of the act. He danced away from the open cabinet and turned to face the stunned eyes and open mouths of the little audience.

'I shall now demonstrate the marvel of the somnambulist! Come Sevárè', walk forward!'

And the sleeping man stepped slowly forward two paces. Pettigrew didn't even to turn around to check his charge. He could tell by the expression of the redhead in front of him that his act was obeying his command.

'Now, gentlemen! Ask of Sevárè anything that you will! You shall discover that the somnambulist's mind never having been troubled by conscious concerns is receptive to all the answers to all the questions in the cosmos! This is why he is such a rare specimen! This is why he presents such a fascinating conundrum to science. This man who has never been awake can answer any question!

'You sir!' Pettigrew pointed to Hagrid, 'What is your question for the somnambulist? What question in all the cosmos do you want answered?'

Hagrid appeared flustered at being singled out and 'hmmmed' and 'hwwwwed' before hesitantly rumbling forth with 'I 'ad always wondered... What do baby dragons eat? Once they've 'atched out of their eggs?' Three heads turned in unison to stare at Hagrid. Who blushed. 

Ron, Neville and Harry were all well acquainted with their tall friend's interest in dragons, but they thought it a bizarre question, nevertheless. In a balletic movement, the three heads pivoted to stare at the pale face of the sleepwalker. 

The somnambulist spoke.

'Newly hatched baby dragons eat other newly hatched baby dragons. And coal.'

The voice from the pale face was even, with a slight husk to it. The words had been clear, not mumbled in anyway, and the voice was compelling without being forceful or strident. 

Harry had never heard a voice like it in his life. He'd felt the words flow over every single part of his spine. Bump by bump, then a slight swirl as they reached his lower back and stayed there. 

Harry shivered.

Ron, however, had been scrutinising the pale face carefully. Determined to not be caught up in some charlatan's trick. But no other part of the man's face had moved other than the mouth. There hadn't even been the merest suggestion of a hint of a flicker of an eyelash. Ron wasn't sure if he should be disappointed or not.

The doctor, perhaps sensing the redhead's new ambivalence, picked him as the new target and pointed. 'You, sir! What is your question whose answer you so strongly desire that you are consumed by it in your every waking moment?'

Well, if you put it like that, thought Ron, there's only one thing that I 'strongly desire'. And so he blurted out 'Will I make it with the World's Most Beautiful Lady at this Fair?'

Harry could not _believe_ his friend sometimes. At least he has the decency to blush, Harry thought, noting that Ron's cheeks had indeed pinkened. Probably because the doctor seemed fairly amused by such an adolescent question.

The somnambulist spoke again. He only said one word.

'Yes.'

It was impossible to tell who was the mos flabbergasted at the answer. Even Pettigrew looked surprised if the sharp glance he directed over his shoulder was any indication.

Ron looked like he was about to swallow his own tongue before choking out,' Wow... umm, yeah.' And then a big grin split his face and he turned to one side. 'Did you hear that, Harry? He said yes!'

Harry was amused to note that Ron's cheeks stayed pink. But before he could respond to his friend, it was Neville's turn, and the doctor was pointing his finger at the nervous boy.

'And you, young gentleman! What is your deep, dark, soul-searing question, hmmm? What do you desire to ask the somnambulist?'

Neville looked like he was going to wet himself.

'I, uh, I just wanted to know if, that is, if you could tell m-m-me, I mean, is it better to plant spring-box flowers this autumn or pink-petal climbers?'

Ron shook his head at Neville's question, whereas Hagrid seemed as interested in the answer as his cousin.

The somnambulist spoke once more.

'Pink-petal climbers.'

Neville seemed relieved.

Harry tensed.

Pettigrew turned. Arm outstretched and pointing.

'And you, last but not least. What question prowls through your mind, lurks in your thoughts, weighs heavy on your heart? What answer do you seek to relieve your spirit and allow you to rest easily at night? What question do _you_ ask of Sevárè?'

Harry swallowed.

He opened his mouth. 'I -'

But before he could utter another sound the tent flap flew back spilling daylight into the flickering gloom and noise into the cloistered atmosphere.

Ron's mother peered intently into the darkness of the tent waiting for her eyes to adjust. But it wasn't her son she was searching for. Molly Weasley was first able to discern Hagrid, then Neville, then Ron, and finally -

'Harry! I'm so glad I found you! It's about you godfather.'

Harry stood up quickly and the world tilted to the left.

to be continued…


End file.
